


The Beginning

by ghoulishandgay



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Multi, my take on S5E12 and after
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-01-20 20:39:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18532741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulishandgay/pseuds/ghoulishandgay
Summary: “Maybe you should come too, watch the prodigal son return?” She goaded.This stopped Selena in her tracks.“What?” Her voice was low and sharp, her eyes burned over her shoulder at the woman behind her.“Haven’t you heard, Cat?” Her voice dripped with feigned innocence, Selena could tell she was savouring this. Anger flared up in Selina as Ivy continued to draw it out, but Selena could guess what was going to come out next.“Bruce Wayne is back in Gotham.”––––––––––––––––––––––––––––Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham after a decade.My take on The Finale and what happens afterwards.





	1. The Beginning

_The Frozen Flame_ , Gotham’s newest emerald import was staring at Selena from behind three millimetres of bulletproof glass and eight meters of motion detectors. It was a beauty – a deep green drew attention to the centre of the room, although wasn’t worth as much as it seemed. It’s mineral found in abundance, a mere few metres down an Icelandic mineshaft. She took a silent step forward, scanning the room for a possible ledge. The beams went up to about her height, nothing she couldn’t work around though.

 

Selena turned, sprung upwards, and latched onto the top of the door frame, perching herself and eyeing the gaps in the beams. If she was careful enough, which she always was, she’d land right in the centre of the room. Selena licked her lips as she readied herself for the jump, arching her leather-clad back like a panther. Selena sprung forward and straightened out, slipping through the gap and landing with a quiet thud. _Effortless_ , she smirked, _now for the fun part_.

 

She took a moment to steady herself before pushing off her hands again, falling forward over the next beam, ducking under the next, purposefully making her way towards the glass casing.

 

Her final jump landed her closer to the case than she’d have liked, but the sight alone was worth it. A deep green jewel glimmered in the fluorescent light of its casing, beckoning her to just reach out and take it.

 

A gloved hand approached the casing, shining metallic claws pressed against the glass and she started to turn. The sound was something Selena had yet to get used to, a byproduct of her less than perfect craftsmanship, no doubt. But she was able to grin and bear it, as the circle of cut glass came loose and landed in her hand. She grinned as she reached forward, plucking the jewel from its stand.

 

“Hello there,” her lips pulled back into a crooked grin, tucking the diamond into her jacket.

 

“ _We’re closed, I’m afraid._ ”

 

Selena whipped around just as she was seized by a gorilla of a man, who lifted the thief up as if she weighed nothing.

 

“You’re new,” She grunted, struggling against the man’s grasp. Behind him, two other men with equally large builds cracked their knuckles in anticipation (a little bit cliche, if Selena was being honest).

 

“Boss figured, what with the new import, he should tighten up on the security. He’ll be happy to know he was correct.”

 

She mustered up her most pleasant smile, “maybe he was too lax,” she offered as she brought her knee up, slamming into the chin of the man restraining her. He yelped and released his grip. She landed, uprighted herself, and pushed forward. He went down quickly, but she didn’t have time to make sure he stayed down, as the other goons were charging towards her with arms like tree trunks outstretched.

 

Using him as a jumping off point, literally, the thief swung her elbow around and she nailed him in the cheek. He swung at her, Selena ducked under and swiped her legs across his. He lost balance and crashed into a shelf of gemstones. He didn’t stir after that. Her next surge forward was stopped by someone grabbing her from behind. This caught her off guard, so she stretched her arms up and dug her nails into whatever she could, pulling down with all her might. Her attacker let out a blood-curdling scream, releasing her and staggering back, His hands were bloodied and covering his eyes. She didn’t have time to react before Selena was pushed back, meaty hands wrapping around her neck and squeezing, squeezing so tightly she barely noticed her head bashing against the wall. She tried to kick, scratch, hit, his body was too broad to reach his face. Fear started to bubble up in her stomach as her vision clouded, she almost missed the dark green tendril sneaking around her assailant's neck, tightening and yanking back in lightning speed. He almost immediately released her, staggering back and trying to claw the vine off of him. There was a crack, and he slumped to the floor.

 

As she choked and caught her breath again, a hand was reached out to her. Selena took it begrudgingly.

 

“Evening, Selena.”

 

“Ivy,” Her voice was hoarse and sore, she ignored it, “like the new look.” _Red seemed to be really leaning into the whole ‘plant’ thing_ , she thought to herself.

 

Ivy ignored this, taking a step forward instead. “It’s awful late, kitten, shouldn’t you be sleeping in some damp hovel at this time of night?” She grinned sardonically, brushing off Selena’s sleeve as she continued to compose herself.

 

“Can it, Pepper, I’m technically older than you are,” she wiped her mouth, “what are you doing here, anyway?”

 

“Same reason as you, I’m guessing; The Frozen Flame?”

 

“Wasn’t in here,” Selena lied effortlessly, huffing a strand of curled hair out of her face, “Was gonna pick up a few gems as a consolation prize though, maybe you should do the same.” Selena went to turn away but Ivy grabbed her wrist and pulled her back around to face her.

 

She laughed cooly, giving Selena a dangerous look, “you’re a rotten liar, Cat, now come on… think of it as a ‘thank you’ gift. I did just save your life, after all.”

 

“I had that handled.”

 

Ivy smiled in mock sympathy, “sure you did.” She reached out and brushed Selena’s neck. A bruise seemed to be already forming, as Selina flinched away from the touch, “might wanna ice that.”

 

“Why do you want it, anyway? Not like it’s the most valuable thing in this dump.” Selena brought the gem out, turning it over casually in her hands as if it were some worthless funfair prize.

 

“True,” Ivy lightly traced the ridges of it with her forefinger, “but isn’t it just my colour?” Her tone had more bite in it. She grasped the top of it, giving Selena a look that she recognised from all those years ago, even when Ivy had been that small, sickly looking little girl. She could still scare people into getting her way.

 

Selena let go.

 

“Besides,” she smiled once again holding up the emerald between them for a beat before tucking it away, “it’ll make a wonderful accessory.”

 

Ivy was baiting Selena to prod, she just knew it.

 

This was getting old. “An accessory to what?” Selena supplied with no interest in her voice.

 

“Gotham’s elite is having a get-together – a big one – seems like it’s gonna be fun.”

 

She was still holding something back, but Selina wasn’t playing anymore. She gave Ivy a pat on the cheek and brushed past her.

 

“Sounds like fun, Ivy, enjoy your diamond.”

 

“Maybe you should come too, watch the prodigal son return?” She goaded.

 

This stopped Selena in her tracks.

 

“What?” Her voice was low and sharp, her eyes burned over her shoulder at the woman behind her.

 

“Haven’t you heard, Cat?” Her voice dripped with feigned innocence, Selena could tell she was savouring this. Anger flared up in Selina as Ivy continued to draw it out, but Selena could guess what was going to come out next.

 

“ _Bruce Wayne_ _is back in Gotham_.”

  
—  


Bruce had been stoic, absent-minded for the entirety of the flight back to Gotham, staring through the window at the clouds beneath him. He’s been preparing for this moment for the last ten years, training himself until he was worthy enough to protect his city. Ten years secluded in a mountainous, ten years of rigorous work, ten years away from home. What did he have to show for it? He only hoped it would be enough. Bruce had been confident, even proud when he boarded the plane, but as the clouds parted and the veins of Gotham city revealed themselves, Bruce was starting to question that.

 

He steeled himself as the plane started it’s decent.

 

It was a late night landing, so the airport would be next to empty. No doubt Alfred had arranged that. The last thing Bruce needed was a scene, and he warmed at the thought that even after a decade, the old man still knew him well.

 

They’d kept in touch, they wrote every month, keeping each other updated. Bruce kept every letter with him, tied up in a neat pile and kept underneath his cot. They were still on him for sentimental reasons, but Alfred didn’t need to know that.

 

The seatbelt sign above Bruce’s head lit up, and he quickly clasped the buckle, inhaling deeply and shutting his eyes as the turbulence began, adding another layer of discomfort. He had really underestimated how tough this was going to be.

 

The landing was a little rough, but thankfully, over quickly. They were the only plane in the terminal. After a brief ‘thank you’ to the pilot, the door moved downwards and for the first time in ten years, Bruce had his feet back on Gotham soil.

 

He took in a deep breath. The air was thick and acrid, but it was familiar. He set off towards the terminal, his effort to not break into a run was betrayed by the wide grin on his face. Passport in hand, he made his way through Arrivals, collecting his bag and turning towards the entrance.

 

It was empty, bar one. An older gentleman, dressed to the nines, with a slick brown cane in his hand.

 

“Heaven above, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” His accent was strong, but his voice quivered.

 

“Alfred,” was all Bruce could say before he dropped his bag and marched towards his butler, pulling him in for a bone crushing hug.

 

“It’s good to have you back, Master Bruce,” Alfred said as they pulled away.

 

“It’s good to be back,” he returned, picking up his bag and throwing an arm over Alfred.

 

“Now, I know you didn’t want a big well-to-do, but I thought it’d be nice to have a couple of old friends around.”

 

Bruce’s smile grows wider, “I’d like that.”

 

Their car pulled up, Alfred took care of Bruce’s bags, and they drove off into the streets of Gotham.

 

The ride passed quickly, They caught up on everything there last letters had missed, discussed Bruce’s inheritance of Wayne Enterprises, and Wayne Manor.

 

“Rebuilds went okay, I take it?”

 

“Naturally. I have to tell you, Master Bruce, the resemblance is uncanny.”

 

“Good, and the modifications to my father’s office?”

 

“Finished a few weeks ago. They followed your illustrations to a tee.”

 

Bruce nodded, and the car turned through the gates of Wayne Manor.

 

He sucked in a breath. On the outside, it appeared as though nothing had happened, as if Jeremiah hadn’t brought the place down those ten years ago. There were already a few cars in the driveway.

 

Bruce took in another breath, walking up the polished stone steps to the door of the manor, he almost felt unwelcome in pushing through them. It was his house, but it didn’t feel like it. Bruce had half-abandoned for ten years, letting someone else pick up the pieces for him. He pushed aside his worries, pretended his apprehension was just allowing Alfred to be the one to welcome him home officially, as there was an unwavering smile on his face as he opened the door for Bruce.

 

He could hear idle chatter coming from the study, that was probably where his guests were gathered.

 

“Nervous, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked as he kept in step.

 

“I hope I look alright…” Bruce muttered, only half joking.

 

The fire was crackling when Bruce entered the room, it was a lot less crowded then Bruce had anticipated, and he was grateful for that.

 

“Sonuvabitch!” Bullock exclaimed, and all heads turned his way.

 

Jim Gordon was there, and by extension, Lee too, Harvey Bullock, Harper, and Lucius Fox, all looked at him with glee spread across their face.

 

“Evening everyone,” Bruce said with a smile, trying to ignore the feeling that something – someone – was missing, “what have I missed?”


	2. Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled: Our Bat and Cat get some new clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all your wonderful comments last chapter, they really made my day :D

The unopened letters sat in a neat pile on the study desk, each one starting and ending the same way. Bruce, pretending to be lost in contemplation, eyed them from the other side of the room. Alfred had been reluctant to tell him just how many were rejected, never picked up or discarded, but honestly, it hadn’t been surprising. It was foolish, blindly hopeful of Bruce to think she’d forgive and forget like that.

 

For the first year, with every letter Bruce sent Alfred, he sent one for Selena too. A vain attempt to reconcile, Bruce realised that after the sixth month without a reply for her. He still sent them, foolishly thinking that maybe his persistence would prove that no matter how far away he was, he was still thinking about her. His mind would wander to her every now and again; when he’d be laying in his cot; when he’d be called down for a meal. He worried for her, longed for her, he missed her. He’d still see the bounce of her curls and the glint in her eye in front of him. She’d laugh at him now, moping over a girl from his past when he’d been fully aware of what his decision would do to their relationship.

 

She had read some of them, a few of the envelopes had been neatly sliced open, their contents looked over, but they had all ended up back with Alfred. It stung to know that she hadn’t kept a single one, but Bruce knew that it was selfish to expect her to. He’d have to work to fix his relationship with Selena if that was even going to be possible. 

 

Lee had mentioned something about her yesterday, Bruce hadn’t been able to get it out of his head. She was apparently Gotham’s new ‘It-girl’, what that meant he had no idea. Had she managed to turn her life around? And would he just be a reminder of that old life if he tried to get back into contact with her? 

 

A soft knock at the doorway broke his stare, looking over his shoulder, he saw Alfred standing there, a tray of cups and a teapot held out before him. 

 

“Pardon me, Master Bruce, but I thought we might have a little talk about tonight’s proceedings?” 

 

Bruce blinked away the dryness in his eyes, “uh, yes, of course,” he shifted in his seat, giving one last look at the stack of letters before focusing on Alfred. 

 

If Alfred noticed anything, he didn’t say a word, probably minding Bruce’s dignity. 

 

“I must apologise again for failing to wake you earlier this morning. I thought it best that you get at least a little sleep after your trip home.”

 

Bruce dismissed the unneeded apology Alfred was making to him. “It’s fine Alfred, I needed the extra hours,” he smiled understandingly.

 

The next hour was filled with a rundown of that night’s schedule. Bruce was to leave the manor by seven-forty-five for a prompt quarter-past-eight arrival to the event. That left fifteen minutes for prep, and after a quick speech, Bruce was then left to shake hands until midnight. 

 

Riveting, Bruce thought to himself, making no effort to disguise his disinterest. 

 

Alfred, picking up on this, decided to change the subject to something more likely to maintain Bruce’s attention with an exaggerated sigh.

 

“Now that that’s all out of the way, how about we have a look at your new office?”

 

Bruce grinned at him, straightening himself up as Alfred pushed himself up and walked towards the bookcase. Bruce turned towards the fireplace, a long-forgotten childhood glee filling him as he watched the brick detached from itself and slide back. It was a much smoother process than Bruce remembered. Rather cavernous, rocky walls that had lined the way down the stairs into his father’s office, the morning light reflected off of sleek metal grating. Bruce stood up and started down the staircase, Alfred following close behind him. 

 

It was much more expensive than it had been a decade ago. Thomas Wayne’s office was no longer guarded by a metal door and keypad; since most of the structural elements of the cave had been destroyed in the blast, it had been modified into one open space that opened up from the hallway. 

 

It took Bruce a while to take the whole thing in. There were countless intricacies that all caught his eye at once. They’d followed Bruce’s requests almost perfectly, he made a mental note to send his regards to the builders. Straight ahead, a large computer screen lit up, displaying an identification screen. Bruce followed the walkway to the metal grate stairs that lead up to the circular platform. 

 

He paused, looking back at Alfred once he reached the monitor. “Did you set a pass-.”

 

He was cut off by an artificial voice. “Voice. Identification. Accepted. Welcome. Bruce Wayne.” It hummed, Bruce’s eyebrows raised.

 

“How’d it know what I sounded like?”

 

“Lucius fiddled with some old interviews you gave and managed to create quite an incredible match to your voice.”

 

“Welcome. Alfred Pennyworth.”

 

Bruce grinned again, watching intensely as a sudden whirring noise came from the smooth wooden desk before him. Panels started separating from one another, revealing a keyboard, touchpad and an impressive stack neatly organised files. He looked each of them over, catching several familiar names.

 

The first one namely being Oswald Cobblepot; alternatively known as The Penguin.

 

“Just to get you up to speed, I believe you already know of Mr Cobblepot’s release from Blackgate?”

 

“Think he’ll integrate well?” Bruce mumbled, flicking through the pages of The Penguin’s dossier. How much had he missed? Maybe Selena was going to appear in one of these files. He sincerely hoped not...

 

Alfred, noticing that Bruce’s mind was beginning to wonder, cleared his throat. “You’ll have plenty of time to pour over those tomorrow. For now, I would like to show you one more thing before we start getting you ready.”

 

Bruce, somewhat begrudgingly, placed the file back down and followed Alfred. To the left of the computer was a rather steep set of stairs that lead down into a semi-closed off space. A white fluorescent light covered the floor, originating from a point that Bruce couldn’t see beyond the wall. 

 

“We had to guess at the proportions, but I think this should fit you quite well,” Alfred announced as he and Bruce turned the corner.

 

He found himself face to face with an all black silhouette, it took his eyes a while to adjust to the sight of it. 

 

It mirrored Bruce’s design impeccably: he lifted one arm up, bending it where his elbow would be. It felt strong, yet he didn’t feel it would sacrifice his agility. The torso was completely padded and over one of the shoulders was hung an empty utility belt that matched the rest of the suit. A black cape draped over the other side of the suit, stopping just below his knee. But most noticeably, the black cowl. It covered the top half of his face, sub two slits for his eyes, two prongs protruded from the top of it, adding an almost monstrous element to the suit. It was mythic. It was to be feared. It was to be looked up to.

 

And it was at that moment, everything clicked into place for him. With this suit, he would be the one to step up and make Gotham, his home, a better place to be. A sense of pride filled Bruce as looked it over once more. 

 

“It’s perfect.” 

 

“I’m glad you think so, Master Bruce… but I fear I must insist you start getting ready…”

 

Bruce chuckled, giving one last glance to the suit before following Alfred out of the cave.

  
  
  


It was back in the study when Bruce’s eyes falling back once again to the stack of letters. He ran the pad of his forefinger over the waxy envelopes, biting down on the inside of his cheek as his thoughts raced a million miles an hour. 

 

“Something on your mind, Master Bruce?” 

 

“Has the guest list been finalised yet?” He asked, eyes still trained downwards.

 

“I don’t believe so, why-”

 

“I’d like Selena Kyle to be added to it.”

 

—

  
  


Barbara Kean eyed the dresses displayed in front of her, nibbling her lip as she tried to decide. She knew that Selena had asked for ‘practical’. Something that wouldn’t catch a lot of eyes but still made her look like she belonged there. Her orders had been very specific. That was what Selena wanted… but was it what she needed? Absolutely not.

 

Barbara couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face when Selena had asked her to lend her a hand. Despite having a daughter of her own, Barbara Lee wasn’t quite old enough for the theatrics of dress shopping. Plus, Selena had always filled a weird, daughter/niece roll to Babs and Tabby. The two of them had cared a lot for the young thief. Selena’s request had brought Barbara back to that time, the three of them running the Sirens together. It was a bittersweet feeling. She wouldn’t give up what she had now for the world, but she missed Tabatha each and every day. Selena calling her up gave a little piece of that back to her, and she was enormously grateful for that.

 

_ To hell with it _ , Barbara thought to herself, picking a dress off the rack that she knew would be perfect for tonight. 

 

As she walked back into the changing room, Selena was stood over the little jewellery bench, holding up a pair of earrings. She turned as Barbara approached her, whatever neg she had been planning had died on her tongue as Barbara presented the dress.

 

“Barbara, I specifically asked for something simple,” she reminded, shooting her an icy glare.

 

“I’m fully aware of that, Cat, but would you just try it on for my sake?”

 

She rolled her eyes but took the dress anyway and stepped into the dressing room.

 

Selena had been impressed at the grandiosity of the store. Barbara hadn’t spared any expense. It was luxurious, rows and rows of beautiful outfits and about five dressing rooms separated by ornate doors. The rooms were obviously meant for more than two, a big, blue, velvet couch took up nearly half of the room; the walls, matching in fabric, were decorated with shelves of accessories. Barbara knew it was a lot, but hey, it’s not every day your almost daughter plans to pull off a one-woman heist at her “ex’s” party. 

 

That was another reason Barbara couldn’t in good conscious let Selena leave without at least trying on a dress with a little bit more to it. This was Bruce Wayne’s homecoming, and if Selena played her cards right, she could pull off something much more skilful than a heist.

 

The curtain was pulled back again, and Selena huffed as she walked over to the full body mirror.

 

“Oh, Selena!” Barbara clutched her hands against her chest, “you look stunning.”

 

“I feel like a disco ball.” She countered emotionlessly.

 

“Oh hush, come here,” Barbara said, turning her back around to the mirror. She scooped her curls back into a simple french twist.

 

“I stick out like a sore thumb in this.”

 

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Selena, what exactly are the chances Bruce is going to even notice that something’s missing?” 

 

Selena jumped to defend herself, “I’m not trying to get his attention.”

 

Barbara gave her a look in the mirror. “You could steal whatever you wanted, but there is something infinitely more valuable up for grabs… his attention.”

 

Her expression softened some as Barbara’s words hung in the air.

 

“You roll up tonight in  _ this _ and Brucey will wish he’d never gotten on that plane.”

 

Selena hummed in consideration, looking over herself again in the mirror, this time with a little more openness to the idea. Something was brewing in her mind, and Barbara delighted in it. She swayed, and turned around, before facing Barbara with an almost content look on her face. 

 

“Think that'll work?”

 

“Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'still incredibly salty over Gotham's treatment of Tabby :):):):)
> 
> also!! apologies for the incredibly long wait, i chose possibly the worst time to update this: during exam month! i'm almost finished with that stuff so a lot more time will be dedicated to this :D


	3. Reputation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alt. Titled: Ed gets an ego check

Edward Nygma appreciated routine, he had since his adolescence. That was the one saving grace of Arkham, that it stuck to a very rigorous routine. As dull and as insulting that it was for Ed to be confined like this, at least there were no surprises. Seven o’clock wake up; twelve o’clock lunch, ten o’clock lights out. Day in. Day out.

 

Of course, there were exceptions. Visitation day was one of them.  For the first few months, Lee would check up on him, make sure he was settling in okay. She was well-meaning but denied his frequent requests to put in a good word for him and help get him discharged sooner. Barbara came when she could, just for a catch-up, relive some of the ‘glory days’, as it were. Her business empire began to grow to an extraordinary degree, and her visits started to become less and less frequent. Surprisingly, his one regular visitor never seemed to tire of their visits. Lucius Fox made it no secret that he enjoyed Ed’s company, he’d spend the entire two hours with him on the fourteenth of every month. He kept him updated on what was happening outside, debated with him, and sometimes, he would bring a logic puzzle for Ed to do. Foxy’s visits meant a lot to him, even if Ed would never admit it. It was nice to be seen as something other than ‘pitiful and deranged’. 

 

As helpful as he was, however, Lucius didn’t really bring the thrill Ed craved. He felt it spark in his fingers each time he ran them over the metal grating separating the inmates from the guards. He felt it in his chest each time a fight broke out over something so meaningless from an outside perspective, yet so fascinating to study. He felt it across his arms and legs, his lips, eyes, the tips of his ears and at the nape of his neck when he stared at the concrete ceiling of his cell at night. Something was coming, and it was coming quick.

 

When that exactly was going to be, Ed didn’t know.

 

That was until he saw that morning’s headline. Bruce Wayne, Sole Heir of Gotham City’s Most Impactful Family, Has Come Home.

 

He couldn’t believe it. Glee filled him as he craned his neck to try and gather any further information. The guard’s broad frame blocked most of the page, and he seemed to ignore Ed’s request for him to move over. 

 

Ed cleared his throat. “Maybe you’re new here, but I  _ know _ that kid,” he insisted, but still the guard ignored him.

 

“Hey,  _ buddy _ , do you have any idea who I am? I fought at the barricade alongside Commissioner Gordon. Just let me see the paper,” he said through gritted teeth, ramming his hands against the barrier for emphasis.

 

The guard huffed out a laugh, “yeah, sure you did, bud.”

 

Ed’s blood ran cold as the realisation hit. This  _ oaf _ genuinely had no regard for what he was… what The Riddler was. It dawned on him that if he reputation hadn’t withstood the test of him in here, then maybe it hadn’t everywhere. His knuckles turned white as his grip on the chain tightened. “Let me see the goddamn paper you son of a bitch!” He yelled, stirring up the other inmates as he did.

 

The guard, aggravated now, rose from his seat and brandished his baton. The two held each other’s stare, testing to see which one would back down first. From the menacing gaze on the guard’s face, Ed could tell this wasn’t going to end well for him. He backed off, snarling at the guard as he did. A nurse gripped his elbow, leading him back to his cell. Ed didn’t bother trying to fight her off, the syringe strapped to her thick belt was menacing enough to assure him that it was a fight he definitely wouldn’t win. It was a strange type of sedative, one Edward was entirely unfamiliar with: it was a deep purple, captivating Ed’s eye as he was lead away from the hall. 

 

“Now now, Mr Nygma, you know what bein’ rude to the guards gets ya,” the nurse chastised in a sweet, southern belle tone. Ed knew he’d heard it before, but couldn’t place where he knew the woman it came from. She looked too young to be from Ed’s first visit to Arkham… was she in Haven?

 

Ed’s brain was still wracking though possibilities when the two of them turned the corner. Ed was lead to his cell, and as the door shut, the nurse spoke again.

 

“Be sure to stay out of trouble, Mr Nygma… for the time bein’, at least,” her lips curled into an almost menacing smile. He kept his eyes on her as she shut the cell door, casting a look at the cell across from him as she walked back down the hallway.

 

“Odd,” he muttered to himself, stepping closer to the cell door to discern what might have caught her attention. As always, the only thing visible was the top of a grey scalp, wiry green hair spiking off it in different directions. 

 

Don’t know why they don’t just kill him, Ed thought to himself, turning on his heel and walking towards his bunk, pulling from under his pillow a copy of  _ Criminalistics _ that Lucius had leant him. It was… below his skill level, nothing he didn’t know already… but honestly engaging with anything that wasn’t a self-help book was good right now. He laid down and flipped through the pages, idly reading excerpts and Lucius’ margin notes as he waited for the hours to drain away. Dinner was in only a few hours, and missing recreation was no skin off his back.

 

Ed was snapped out of his concentration not long afterwards. Something was riling the inmates up. Distressed screams sounded off from down the corridor, and Ed felt the spark again.

 

He scrambled to the door of his cell, pressing his face up to the grate as hard as he could to try and discern what was going on. Surely the guards should be running past him right now, trying to control the mass of screeching patients, but no. There was nothing. 

A mechanical buzz startled him, and the lock on his door was suddenly released, swinging open and leaving Ed standing in his doorway. He was almost scared to step forward, but realising what had been handed to him, he risked it. Peering down the length of cells, he could see that all of them had been unlocked, and it sounded like it reached beyond this row of cells too… he could hear a crowd of inmates making their way towards him. 

 

_ Away from the closest exit… idiots... _

 

Thinking quickly, he stepped backwards, bringing the door closed to an almost complete shut as a near stampede passed him. They were yelling and vicious, it was a wonderful sight to behold. Ed couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up in him. Once he was sure the worst had passed, he stepped back out again, quietly shutting the door behind him.

 

More footsteps sounded from behind him. A row of nurses marching in near perfect tempo with one another was approaching him but seemingly paid him no attention, turning instead to the cell in front of him.

 

Now was his chance, he began to book it towards the exit. It was really happening, after ten years, he was getting out. As he began to sprint, he caught the eye of the nurse from before. She looked… different. She’d painted her face this white, chalky colour, her lips stained red and her eyes wild. She winked at Ed before turning her attention back to the other cell.

 

_ She must have been in on it _ , Ed concluded, racing past them back into the rec room. 

 

The guard from before lay still on the ground, a syringe, shattered, next to him. Underneath his back was the folded up newspaper. He leant down and slid it out of the guard’s pocket, unfurling it and studying the first page.  _ Perfect… this is going to be perfect, Ed thought, having the perfect target just handed to me like this... _

 

_ Serves him right _ , Ed snarled, stepping over the guard’s body and out the gate. There was a clear path towards the entrance. He made no effort to avoid cameras, he doubted that there would be anyone chasing after just him. The mob was making their way to the further reaches of the asylum, with brutes and cannibals among them, Ed would slip right through. 

 

Alarms were blaring, lights were flashing, and the authorities were undoubtedly on their way…  _ oh, _ how Ed had missed this. The locks on the front gates had been melted off, dripping a pale purple froth that Ed was incredibly careful to not spill on his person, and for the first time in ten years…

 

Edward Nygma was a free man.

 

And the city of Gotham was going to regret ever forgetting The Riddler.

 

–

  
  
  


Lee Thompkins set down the small hand she was holding as the child’s eyes finally closed. Carefully, she picked up the glass on her bedside and walked out of the room, shutting the door softly behind her. 

 

It was a Friday night, which meant that Barbara Lee would be staying at their place rather than Barbara’s since this time of the week was when Jim and Lee had the most time free. She loved having the little girl around, any discomfort Lee had about the child’s conception disappeared in an instant once she was actually there (granted, they had been running for their lives, so there were more important things to worry about). She was bright and witty with a shining personality, filling their lives with a little extra light.

 

Standing over the sink, she ran the glass under the sink a few times and set it to the side. Her breath hitched some as two arms snaked around her waist. A quiet laugh escaped her as she settled back into the hold, Jim kissing the nape of her neck, his bristly moustache tickling the soft skin.

 

“Good shift?” She asked, revelling in her husband’s warmth.

 

“God, no.”

 

His bluntness amused her, and she turned around to face him, resting her arms on his shoulders. She was close and could tell he was expecting a kiss. 

 

She leaned in, stopping just before his lips, and smiled, “I still can’t get over you with that moustache.”

 

He stiffened, “oh come on,” he said sheepishly, turning away from her as she laughed.

 

“You know I’m joking.” She leant over and brought a bottle of wine up from the fridge, pouring it into the to the two glasses on the counter.

 

“You’re not though, and you know it.”

 

She grinned, shaking her head as she brought the drinks out. Jim took one happily, tilting his head back and draining half the glass.

 

“Didn’t think it bothered you that much,”

 

“No, it’s not that… something just feels a little off, tonight, that’s all.”

 

“If this is you trying to get out of the gala dinner tomorrow, it’s not working,” Lee playfull chastised, leaning back against Jim.

 

A chuckle rumbled through him. “No, it’s not that… you remember that there was a break-in at Arkham today, right?”

Lee nodded, Jim had messaged her about it right as she was picking up Barbara Lee, Babs had looked nervous watching the two of them pull out of the driveway. 

 

“All the convicts were found… except for Edward Nygma.”

 

Lee paled, turning around to face her husband. “You think he’s responsible for this?”

 

“Hard to say… he definitely had help though.” Jim’s lips straightened into a thin line.

 

“Maybe he’ll lie low for a while… maybe he’ll just try and move forward…” Lee suggested, yet knew that her hope was naive. Nygma was not one to let go without a fight, and Lee began to dread what that entailed.

 

“I guess we can only hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact! Edward/The Riddler is my favourite character ever!! love that lanky bastard man
> 
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!! seriously they make my day :D


	4. i have no excuse

hi y'all,,

sorry for being away for ages, things all kinda kicked off in the last few weeks of school and i have virtually no time or motivation to sit down and write,, but!! the next chapter is on its way and i will try my hardest to have it up asap

thanks for bearing with me!!

moe

**Author's Note:**

> @gayghouls on tumblr


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